Rule One
by Princess Pinky
Summary: In the midst of searching for Rory, River gets touched by an Angel. Will the consequences be deadly?


**A/N:** I had to get this, but MASSIVE SPOILERS for 7x05, "The Angels Take Manhattan." Basically, preview was released today from the Space channel with a lot of River Song footage. Someone took a screencap of it, and that inspired me to write this ficlet. I'm probably _completely _way off base with what's actually going on in the cap, but the moment itself is very odd and very potentially spoilerific (as is the whole preview if you want to go out and find it). Now, with that out of the way, here we are…

_**Rule One**_

River rubbed her wrist. The damned Weeping Angel had just gotten a hold of it and sure, she grinned big and acted as if it were no big deal until, between she and her husband, they'd devised a way to get her wrist free without her being catapulted into the past, or worse, having her neck snapped. For the Angel in question was some kind of outcast, held in a private collection because it didn't kill nicely the way it was supposed to: it liked physical violence, it didn't just like to feed on the years a person would have lived. Every culture had the insane – humans, daleks, Time Lords – this was the Weeping Angels'.

Still, something rubbed her wrong. She'd felt coldness and a kind of shiver deep inside, similar to the way a limb feels when it falls asleep, only this had originated at the site where the Angel had snatched her and spun deep inside like a drop of red blood dispersing into a crystalline bowl of water. It was like her internal organs trying to fall asleep and despite all the pain physical pain and side effects she'd endured over years of Kovarian's genetic experiences and her physical combat conditioning, she'd never felt something like this. It unnerved her, but now was not the time for_ that_.

"River, are you okay?"

River started. "Yes," she said, looking up to meet her mother's large green eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just…" Amy let the tip of her tongue rest against the roof of her mouth, just behind the edge of her top teeth. "…your wrist. Is it hurt?"

"Tight grip," she replied smoothly. "Just a little sore. I've had worse."

Amy reached for River's hand and slowly peeled back the black fabric of her gown. She examined it quietly. "I don't see any bruising. Does it hurt when I touch it?"

River shook her head.

Amy narrowed her eyes. "I can't tell if you're lying or not," she sighed. "If Rory was he - re…" Her voice hiccupped on the last word. That was the whole problem: he wasn't and they were looking for him. "When we find him," she corrected, "I'll have him look at it…just to be safe."

"Of course." River pursed her lips and gently extracted her hand. She rolled down the fabric and smiled in the hopes of easing her mother's addled mind.

"_Amy!"_ The Doctor hollered from the next room.

"Are you _sure _you're okay?"

River could tell what she was doing: focusing on her so as to not focus on the situation. If Amy could fix even one thing, like her hand, then it would give her some semblance of control in a situation where she had none. "I'm _fine,_ Mother." she assured. "Why don't you go find out what The Doctor wants?"

Amy nodded solemnly and turned once, then quickly turned back. "You aren't coming?" she asked, raising a brow.

"I –" River's mind made a quick calculation of the room. _Quick_ wasn't even accurate. Her Time Head was in full swing and her perception was blindingly fast. It could probably give a Weeping Angel a run for its money, so long as it wasn't distracted by other things. "–just need to grab my coat." She motioned easily to the cream colored trench coat swung over the back of a chair. "I'll be right there."

"Okay." Amy hung her head and shuffled off towards the next room as The Doctor's voice hollered out again, this time with an air of impatient annoyance, like a child calling for a mother from down the hall.

River glided across the room to the chair and as she reached for the trench coat her breath hitched. Her eyes snapped and her hands flew like magnets to her belly. She clutched her abdomen, pressing deep against the shimmery black fabric. Her breath came out in shallow puffs, barely daring to breath in the same way someone suffering from the knife-like pains of precordial catch attack might. She stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality, was only a minute or so, and when the pain had subsided to something that she could hide more easily, she picked up her trench coat and slid it on, careful to tie it around her waist.

With each step towards the doorway, she drew in a sharp breath. She knew that if Amy began to think about it, she'd be back in soon, asking what was taking her so long. She tried to hasten her step but that only made things worse. Finally, she relented, and collapsed onto the second step of a nearby staircase. She pressed her hands to her knees and hunched over a bit, attempting to steady herself.

"_River –"_

River's head bolted upright. She felt like a mouse to his lion as she stared at him, stopping cold like a statue as he stepped through the door and caught sight of her. She forced her back rigid and held her chin high. "I'm coming, Sweetie-"

"Don't 'Sweetie' me!" he scolded, raising his finger to her. "Amy said you were acting strange, what's the matter with you?" The Doctor closed in on her and soon he was sitting on the step beside her, craning his neck in odd angles and touching her in various places, as if he were performing an examination and actually had some sort of real medical degree.

"Nothing!" she snapped back, practically gritting her teeth halfway between pain and frustration. River pitched forward to stand up and then gasped as something tore through her abdomen. She curled her fists to steel herself against the pain.

The Doctor, meanwhile, reached for her nearest hand. His right hand embraced her wrist while his left curled beneath her left to touch palm-to-palm. "River," he whispered. His eyes were locked onto the golden glow emanating from the back of her hand, spreading rapidly towards her fingers.

"Doctor – _don't_."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

River closed her eyes. "Did this seem like a good time to you?" she hissed.

"I could have helped." He lifted his eyes from the golden swirls whirling from her hand and held her gaze. "This has happened before, hasn't it? How many times?"

River swallowed. Her throat stung as though coated in heartburn. "Three."

"Three?!"

"I don't know why!"

"You should've come to me!"

"You're not always the answer!" she snarled. "Sometimes – sometimes you're the problem!" River tore her hand away and made a spiral of gold energy in the air which slowly dissipated. She tried not to look at him, but she couldn't help herself. Her words had pierced him and he looked like an abused puppy. It hadn't been the right thing to say, not now, when he was blaming himself for her missing father, but she couldn't exactly take it back.

"Wh – what is that?"

River gulped and she heard her husband do the same. "I'm fine. I'm fine," she said, grabbing the banister and using it to pull herself upright. "It's nothing-"

"Don't treat me like an idiot!" Amy stomped across the floor, her eyes watery. "I may not have a Time Head, but I am no idiot! What is going on?" Her head kept tilting, following the swirls flitting off River's hand.

_Hands,_ actually, River realized when she saw her right hand. She unconsciously began to touch her neck, face, and areas of exposed skin. By holding the sleeve of her trench coat in front of her face, she could see the gold light reflecting off the fabric. She was lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Doctor?" Amy demanded, deciding to try him when she was obviously getting nothing from her daughter. "I thought you said River gave up all her remaining regenerations when she brought you back to life in Berlin?"

"She did."

"I did."

Amy glowered. "So then would someone please tell me why it looks like you're regenerating right now?"

"She's not," The Doctor said quietly.

Amy stomped her foot. "Then _who_ is?!"

River carefully untied the trench coat and pressed a glowing hand to her abdomen.

Amy's mouth drooped, hanging open slightly, like a cupboard door with a broken hinge. "But – are you saying…"

"It's a miscarriage. Or it would be, if this was a human child."

"But Time Lords don't die," she said slowly.

"They regenerate," River nodded. "Most of the time."

"Since mother and child are connected," The Doctor interrupted quietly, "the regeneration energy is filtered through River. Like blood seeping through a gauze bandage."

"Sweetie, that's probably not the best analogy."

"I get it," Amy whispered. Her eyes sparkled as she reached out to lay a hand upon River's. Then, just centimeters before contact could be made, she stopped herself. "I – may I?"

River nodded and swallowed. The pain was waning as her mother's hand settled upon her own. The streams of golden energy were disappearing and the intensity with which they were coming off her was dying away.

"Is it over?" Amy whispered. "I – is she or he okay?"

River looked to her husband and he nodded. "Fine," she said. "Absolutely fine."


End file.
